


Hoodie

by kingster



Series: Pride and other stories [3]
Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: M/M, Paranoia, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-12
Updated: 2013-11-12
Packaged: 2018-01-01 08:11:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1042447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingster/pseuds/kingster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chibs' trying to figure out what's up with Juice. Spoilers for S04E07.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hoodie

The lads says he's told me everything, but I don't believe him.  He's distant, answering questions like 'where did Jax go?' with 'yeah, sure', and his eyes are glassy, like he's always on the verge of crying. With all that's been going on around here I don't blame him, but he not himself. He lacks his grin. I can't remember last time I heard him laughing.

It's Friday night at the clubhouse after a good week (a sting in my chest when I realize that a good week is that we haven't lost anybody - times really have changed), bar's full of girls and booze and there's something euphoric in the air, it already smells of sweat and the music is just a little too loud and no one seems tocare cause they don't want to talk anyway, just drink and sing and find someone to fuck. I think we're all been waiting to catch a break in between all the shit storms.

Juice seems to not have caught the same break. He's tense, rejects three girls in an hour,  and keeps going out alone and come back red-eyed and mellow. I follow him when he went off one his breaks, I need to talk to him, figure it out. I stop in the hallway, watch him through the window smoking his joint, back against me. He should cut down on the weed. Pretty sure it doesn't help him with is paranoia.

The light-bulb is out and it's dark, just a sliver of light comes through the crack of the door. And I should know better than to stand it the dark waiting for a brother when he's skittish,  but I'm whisky-numb and slightly careless. I definitely will remember next time.  

The door opens and closes, I hear a startled sound and my voice as I'm about to say something, but before I get to it I'm up against the wall, his hand on my throat, his breath on my face. Sweet from the weed.

I try to say his name. At least it comes out as something with a J. He lets go instantly, puts a hand on my arm, and his voice sound desperate.

"Oh no, Chibs, man, I'm sorry... I'm sorry, I just -"

"It's alright," I say while I cough and catch my breath, " I shouldn't have..." I make a gesture, "in the dark."

He continues saying he's sorry, I thought were someone else, I'm so sorry man, I didn't mean to. I grab his upper-arms for him to stand still, get him to look at me.

"Juice," I say as his eyes meet mine. "Juice, relax. Really, it's fine. I should've known better, okay?"

He gives me a meek look before nodding.

I point to the door. "Let's go out and talk."

"Yeah, okay."

He walks first, I close the door behind me. I light up a smoke and offer him one. He shakes his head.

We stand beside each other, quiet for a minute or two, cause I don't really know where to start. He looks at the pavement. I look at his silhouette.

"Something's not right, brother," I start. "That shit just now, what was that? You think you're not safe in your own clubhouse, Friday at midnight, your entire club around you?"

He says nothing, just keeps staring down the ground, his jaw clenching.

"I worry about you, Juice."

He nods, like he's agreeing with something I'm not saying, moves a stone around on the ground with one of his feet before kicking it off.

"Uh, listen, Chibs," he begins, and I  know from the tone of his voice that I won't like this, "I... I'm very... happy, I guess, uh, thankful - that you've got my back. But I can't..." His voice breaks and his eyes overflow.

"Is it that bad?" I put a hand on his shoulder. He wipes his eyes with the edge of this black hoodie.

"It's gonna be fine," he says and takes a deep breath.

I'm not sure I believe him.

"But really, thank you. I'm grateful. Without you..." he shrugs it off. Then he looks up at me and I can see that he's thinking about something he wants to say but he's not really sure how I'll respond.

I wait a minute or two, figure I'll give him some time, but eventually I can hear myself going: "Come on lad, just say it."

And he smiles a short smile, it's the first I've seen on him a while and it's gone in a second.

He says: "Whatever happens, I want you to know that I love you." And it's not uncommon for a brother to say he loves you, but there is something in the way he says it. _Whatever happens._ What's about to happen?

Then he takes a step towards me, places his right hand on the back of my neck, pulls me into a kiss. It's short, just lips touching, and it's surprisingly confident seeing how he's been acting lately.

I'm dumbstruck. He lets out a small sigh as we part, it sounds like relief but I could be wrong, and without saying anything else, he turns his back, pulls the hoodover his head, and starts walking away.

The sinking feeling is so strong I feel I might pass out.  I'm starting to regret my last couple of whiskeys. Nothing makes sense in my head, so I start walking after him, saying hey, wait up, HEY, WAIT UP, JUICE COME BACK HERE, and he stops and I don't know what to make of his look in his eyes. It's like a damn being broken inside my head and everything  just comes out at once in a long, loud rant. It's not even coherent, I just say everything I think about like _what have you done_ and _why did you kiss me, why do you say you love like that, it's not right,_ and _I've been so worried about you, I can't believe you tried killing yourself_ and I can se him getting more and more freaked out but I can't seem to stop this _where are you going now, you can't ride, I won't let you ride, what's happening, Juice, why don't you tell me what's going on, I can't have you walking off again-_

"I'M SORRY!" he yells, hands up in front of him just in case, "I'm sorry, I just wanted to feel good for a second. Everything has been so fucking shitty lately, I just wanted to feel something good. Please don't tell the others!"

It's like a switch in my head is turned off.  I just stand there, looking at him. I hear crickets, and a car somewhere far off. And Juice, saying "please don't be mad at me," just before I kiss him. There's train of thought starting in my head about how I will regret this tomorrow, but his tongue comes and derails it, everything turns into being about his soft, wet mouth, his hands, and the way his breath changes.


End file.
